The Ups and Downs of a Phone
by Shinobi Saru Corp
Summary: It's my turn to tell a story. This story started on how Peter gave us cell phones. Yes… the horror. I lost many sleepless nights due to this addiction of 'texting'. What? Oh you misunderstood me. I didn't get addicted. Peter did. Hence the horror. (Gamora's POV)
1. The Phone of Doom

**_The Ups and Downs of a Phone_**

**Written by Tora**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 The Phone of doom<strong>

Hello. This is Gamora.

It's about time that I get the recorder, since Peter is constantly hogging it. And I don't mean to complain or anything, but he always portrays me as the… bad guy in his stories. What a dork.

Anyway, I want to tell you the story of when Peter gave us all cell-phones. Unlike Peter, I won't go on rambling and giving out misinformation. A cell-phone is a phone, is where you can talk on, that's a cell.

Peter gave us, even Groot one, one of these cells. He told us if we were endangered we could talk to each other. But we'd have to be endangered on the ship, because there was no 'cell-phone reception' off the ship.

And thus life proceeded with the phone that is a cell.

What happened?

Ah. You probably guessed it. The most horrible things came from it…

Yes… Peter started… _texting_ me.

The first time he was texting me was when he was _right_ in front of me. Yes, horror the horror, so on and so forth.

It was after dinner, and we were all hanging out in the 'living room' as we called it. Peter likes to refer to his ship as 'babe' or 'home'. And yes, he lumps me in the same category as his ship, special right?

We were all trying to figure out this phone, all of us idly playing games on it, Rocket found the first person shooter games amusing, and he would frequently shout out, "DIE DIE DIE YOU LITTLE BOOGERS! I need a bigger gun!"

For the most part, we tried to ignore it. Don't burst Rocket's mood when he's in one of 'those' moods.

Then. Peter texted, to me…

_HIYAH, BAYB!_

I looked up at Peter, who gave me a sly smile.

"Peter, why are you texting me, when you're right in front of me?" I snapped, glaring at him.

Peter looked down at his phone, and mumbled quietly, "Som-times I ju-st wan… how do you spell want… wa-unt to te-xt y-ou."

A second later I got a text: _Sometimes I just waunt to text you_.

I see. That's how he was going to play.

_Your spelling sux._ I hastily typed back.

Peter shot me a hurt look and typed back, _Well so does urs. You spelled suck sux. Oh. HAHAHA, I get it. Did u know that some teens are obsessed with texting like this? How r u? ikr, lmao, lol, brb, gtg. Somtmes dy rit lke dis. Cn u undrstnd dis, Gmra?_

Gibberish.

I frowned hard.

_I'm sorry, I don't speak monkey._ I coolly typed back.

Then Peter send me something strange. It meant nothing, and I'm not sure why he typed it. It was just… random lines and curves and dots…

_;-)_

What was… ;-)

_What the heck is ;-)_

I asked.

Peter replied back hastily, _I dunno how to describe it. ;-) look, it's you… x-(_

The next weird symbol he sent me looked almost the same, but it had an x instead of this ;.

_Don't get it._

Peter rolled his eyes. _Gamora, it's called… emoticons. Emotion+con=emoticons. :-(_

_What is: :-(_

"Gamora! Surely you know what emoticons are!" Peter finally shouted up. He gave me a despairing sad face. Then he texted me: _:'(_

I raised my eyebrow. Eh? Wait a minute… I suddenly started to grasp this thing… :-) does this mean I'm happy?

_:-)_ I sent to peter.

_('_') ('_') *(^o^)* _Peter sent me. What was that?! Just when I started to understand this weird thing… forget it. What the heck?

_I don't get it…_ I told him.

Peter impatiently texted back, _They are hugging each other. And I'm happy. *(^o^)*_

I looked at the people 'hugging' each other. They didn't look like they were.

As if he read my thoughts, Peter typed back, _Just pretend, Gamora._

_Who is… 'they'? _I asked back.

Peter grinned at me. _US, bahbah_!

Bahbah? Was that supposed to be baby or something weird like that? Ugh, he was embarrassing me so badly.

"Really, Peter? Really? That's so mature," I said loudly.

_Ah know raht? _Peter texted me back, grinning from ear to ear like a brat that he is.

Now what happened next may be a little fast for you, so I'd advise you to keep up, go back and read again if you get confused. And if you get a head ach, it's because of Peter. Not me.

_So emoticons tell how you're feeling… well then here… :-{_

_HEY NOW! DON'T BE SO MEAN TO ME!_

_Peter, why are you texting in all caps…?_

_BECAUSE I CAN. IT SHOWS THAT I AM ANGRY. :-O_

_But… how can you show that you're angry without emoticons. Are you trying to say that there's such a thing as… emotions without emoticons?_

_YES THAR IS. _

_Thar?_

_OOPS. I MADE A TYPO. DON'T TELL ANYONE, OKAY, GAMORA?_

_…_

_PLEASE? IT WOULD RUIN MY REP._

_Um… are you still mad at me?_

_UM. NO. WHY WOULD I BE MAD AT U, BABE? I LUV U. FOREVER. BFF._

_Then why are you still using caps…_

_UH… GOOD QUESTION… BECAUSE I'M SHOUTING TO THE WORLD THAT I LOVE YOU AND MY HEART BURNS FOR YOU, BABE._

_Why aren't you using explanation marks?_

_!_

_Huh? That's random, Peter, I thought you'd be better at spelling than that._

_I LOVE YOU BABE! MERRY ME!_

_:'D merry?!_

_YES. TO BE WEDDED. MERRIED. WE WILL BECOME ONE. ONCE WE ARE MERRIED TOGETHER WE WILL TRAVEL TO THE END OF THE UNIVERSE AND WATCH THE UNIVERSE EXPLODE. HOW ROMANIC, RIGHT?!_

_Merried?! AHAHAHAH!_

_Y U LAUGING AT ME. YOU'RE USING EXPLINATION MARKS._

_Explination marks?!_

_YES. THAT IS WHAT THEY ARE CALLED. THEY MEAN TO HAVE GREAT EMOTION. HAPPY :D OR SAD :( OR MAD :-( OR ANGRY :-O_

_Peter… dear…_

_YOU CALLED ME DEAR! THAT MEANS YUO MUST LUV ME. AHHH EVEN IN MY EXCITEMENT, I AM DONG TYPOS! AND I HATE TEXT CORRECT! _

I stared at him. He was totally absorbed in his text, waiting for me to reply.

_Get a grip, you freak_. _I'm going to bed_. I stood up and sauntered away, not waiting for Peter's reply.

As I lay awake in bed, I thought of something truly frightening… if Peter was at ease just texting me while I was in front of him… how often would he text me?

As I drifted off to sleep, I would soon get an answer…

* * *

><p>Hiya! It's me, Tora, thanks for reading this all! I came up with this story late last night and I was super excited to write it down. Unlike Child of the 80s, this is a light hearted chapter story. With probably nothing heartwarming. Just something to read if you've had a hard day and could use a laugh. And this time, it's from Gamora's POV!<p>

Feel free to leave a comment. Leave a comment you'll end up being my best friend. Hoho, just kidding. I think. ;)


	2. Nightly texts

_**Written by Tora**_

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter 2 The Nightly texts<span>**_

It was very dark. I was asleep. And then he texted me.

Something buzzed and nearly scared the crap out of me. I ignored it, but it buzzed again. I finally looked at it. The brightly lit screen made me squint.

_Gamora. I had a nightmar_.

I gazed at the phone. Nightmar? It took me a couple seconds to realize he meant nightmare.

I ignored it.

But then—**_buzzzz_**…

I jolted up right and glanced at my phone. It kept startling me.

_It was scary. I got eaten by Groot and then pooped out and then eaten again and then pooped out and his digestive system was creepy. Especially going through his stomach._

_I had a really bad nightmar._

_It was creepy._

_And there was lots of poop in my nightmar._

_Lots. It stunk like poop too. It felt like poop too._

_Gamora, you awake?_

Then he sent me this weird iconic-like thing. It was a picture of something gloppy and brown. For some reason it had eyes and a grin on its face. There were flies around it.

I rolled my eyes. Boys and their potty humor… what's with them?!

I wanted to snap the phone and chuck it away into a black hole. _Stupid boys!_ My mind roared out loud.

I texted back, _GO TO SLEEP, STUPID! _

I even sent an angry emoticon, which was really extreme.

_Are you mad gamora. u using all cps. i gues you are pretty craby when you first wake up. Hohhoho. ;-D_

I glared sourly at the phone. I'd just turn off the vibrate, and the sound and go back to sleep. The end. Good night.

I slept peacefully the rest of the night. Wonderful sleep. Without the constant texting. Did I feel bad for not answering him back? Or comforting him after he had a nightmare? No. He's a big boy. Basically… He can deal or he'll face the wrath of… me.

* * *

><p>I woke up the next morning, feeling all energetic and fresh. Lovely thing about waking up in the morning. You feel all refreshed, unless you're Peter and you want your friends to have a drinking contest… and then the next day… yeah. Throbbing from hell.<p>

I looked at my phone.

Holy. Crap. Tell me my eyes are deceiving me.

172 messages from Peter, 13 from Drax, and 21 from Rocket and then a group message of about +999…

Here's some of the random jibberish.

We'll start with Peter's messages.

_Gammmorraaa, are you awake?_

_Did I make you mad? :-(_

_I just wanted you to know I had a bad dream…_

_Are you awake?_

_Did someone kill you? Y u not answering? _

_Gamora?_

_Yo?_

_Hello?_

_Umm…. Should I come and get you? Should i? are you lying ded in your sleep?_

_Uhhh omg, what should I do? Omg help someone help!_

_GAMORA WAKE UP! ARE YOU DED? YES I'M FREAKING OUT! AND I'M USING ALL CAPS. :-O HELP! GAMORA'S BEEN MURDER I THANK! OMG OMG OMG OMG! _

_DO I NEED TO KISS YOU?! IF I KISSED YOU I COULD BE LIKE PRINTCE CHARMING OR WATEVER HIS FASE WAS! AND YOU COULD BE MY SLEAPING BEATY! ('3') _

_GAMORA? OMGOMGOMG WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!_

_Okay maybe I should text Drax and Rocket… omgomgomg._

Look… I don't want to be picky or anything… but Peter… you need to learn to spell a little better. Please...

Then I looked at Rockets messages. There were only 21.

_I don't mean to be bothering you… but your boyfriend is driving me nuts._

_He's constantly texting me._

_Help._

_Get him to stop. If you're dead, why couldn't I die too…_

_This totally sucks._

_Tell him to shut up or I'll shoot him._

_And then there will be someone else murdered._

_Gamora. Seriously. Get up and tell him to shut up._

_I'm going insane. _

_Stop him. Please._

_You see that? I said please. I don't say it very often. Stop him… I'm begging you._

_Going insane._

_Help._

_FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, WILL SOMEONE STOP THE LITTLE TITCH?!_

_The titch is starting to grate on me!_

_That's it. I'm leaving. _

_I don't need your help._

I didn't read the rest. I was a little amused at Rocket for calling Peter the titch, when honestly, Rocket was the titch. I wonder how many Rockets could fit into a Peter.

Then I looked at Drax.

_Gamora. _

_Get. _

_Up._

_Now._

_And._

_Stop._

_Peter._

_From._

_Killing. _

_Us._

_All. _

_From._

_Drax._

Shall I describe the texts between the three? I shall, but you'll have to read carefully. I'll tell you this, it starts with Peter, then Rocket, and then Drax. From then on you must figure who is speaking for yourself.

_Guys, Gamora is dead._

_Big whoop._

_…_

_I think someone murdered her._

_Big whoop._

_Go to sleep._

_What if there is a murder on this ship?_

_Big whoop._

_Maybe Groot killed her._

_Eeek, hahah, nah mah man._

_Groot kill her? Whatever._

_Okay good night._

_Okay this is sirius. What happened to Gamora?_

_Those books you got me, Pete, wasn't one of the guy's named Sirius Black?_

_You read, Rocket? *snorts*_

_Ummm… wait… how do you spell sirius? Like being sirius? Searius?_

_Umm… what?_

_Good grief._

_Good grief._

_Am I missing out on a punchline?_

_Drax, stop copying me._

_You spell it… Y-O-U-SU-C-K._

_Thanks mah man… so yousu… wait… DRAX!_

_*Virtual fist bump* at drax._

_*Virtual fist bumps back* at Rocket._

_COME ON GUYS, THIS IS MAN TO MAN! BE A MAN!_

_I'm insulted._

_I'm going to bed._

_Oh, sorry, Rocket. I can be a little… insensitive sometimes._

_What a shocking new revelation. _

_If you two don't shut up, I'm going to break my phone._

_But what about Gamora?_

_Big whoop._

_…_

_WE'RE BACK WHERE WE STARTED! POOR GAMORA! SHE'S PROBABLY DEAD, HER BLOOD SPILLING FROM HER NECK AS WE SPEAK! AND ALL WE'RE DOING IS GOING IN A SIRCLE._

_Yeh hear that, Drax? We're going in a sircle. _

_Looks like his mind is going in a sircle._

_GENGLEMENT, PLEASE CONSTIPATE ON WHAT WE'RE DOING!_

_…__you mean concentrate?_

_=.= Genglement? You mean... gentlemen?_

_Sorry. I hate text correct. Y'know how it works. It's cruel and heartless nd makes you look like a total fool._

_#youareatotalfool._

_What's with the weird symbol._

_Ohhh, you've never heard of hashtagging? It's so much fun! #newphone. #love. #life. #Ilovegamora. #Starlord. #Iamcool. _

_#youarestupid._

_#Stardoofus._

_HEY! CUT IT OUT! STOP MAKING FUN OF MY NAME!_

_#fakename._

_#hatehashtagging._

_WHY ARE YOU HASHTAGGING IF YOU HATE IT, DRAX?!_

_#stopyelling._

_#whatdoesitdoexactly._

_HASHTAGGING JUST MEANS… I DON'T KNOW OKAY?! I THOUGHT WE USED TO EAT THESE THINGS CALLED HASHBROWNS. MAYBE HASHTAG IS A DIFFERENT VERSION OF HASHBROWNS. LIKE THE NEW JERSEY WAY OF HASHBROWNS. (#NewJerseysucks)_

_What did New Jersey ever do to you?_

_What are Hashbrowns?_

_I don't know how to describe hashbrowns. I used to think hashbrowns were like hotdogs. (Ps Rocket, I don't know why New Jersey sucks… People make jokes about it all the time, I just like to fit in.)_

_It's late, I'm going to sleep._

_I wanted to do that ages ago._

_MEN OF CURAGE! MEN OF WAR! WE MUST SEE IF GAMORA IS DED IN HER BED!_

_Ded in her bed…_

_Curage?_

_YES. MEN OF CURAGE. WE WILL AVENGE GAMORA'S DEATH IF SHE IS TRUELY DED!_

_Okay we can do that tomorrow. Hey Drax, I found out how to turn off vibrate and sound. _

_Great I'll message you and you can tell me how._

_WAIT! GET BACK HERE! ARE YOU BRAVELY RUNNING AWAY?! HOW DAR YOU! GET BACK HEAR! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!_

_Night night._

_Bye Star Doofus._

_NO WAIT SIRIUSLY! I THINK SHE IS DED! WILL YOU GUYS PLEASE ACOMPANY ME TO HER ROOM?!_

_Well aren't you a little pervert…_

_You can go and get your head bitten off if you want._

_WANT DO YOU MEAN?! ARE YOU SAYING THAT GAMORA GOT HER HEAD BITTEN OFF BY THIS THANG?_

_OMG! WAIT GUYS!_

_SIRIUSLY THIS IS MAGOR BISSNESS!_

_GUYS!_

_WAIT!_

_PLZ!_

_OMGOMGOMG_

_WHAT AM I GOING TO DO_

_SOMEONE GIVE ME OXIGEN!_

_OMGOMG I MUST HAVE OXIGEN! HELP HELP! OMGOMGOMGGGGGG! HELP!_

_GAMROA ARE YOU AWAKE? GAMORA?! ARE YOU AKWAKE? ARE YOU OAKY BABY?_

Okay… I think you get the idea. Spam. Spam. Spam. And more… spam.

I finally decided to text Peter back, which probably meant the world was going to explode.

_Peter… umm… why did you decide to text us all night long…?_

To my shock, Peter didn't text back. Maybe he had been murdered and was now 'ded'.

After getting ready for the day, I walked out of my room and into the main rooms.

I blinked.

Rocket was fixing a gun and was squabbling with Groot.

"Where's Peter?" I asked skeptically.

Not that I really wanted to see him at the moment, it was more the fact that I was scared that he'd jump out any moment and scare the crap out of me.

"What? Oh you haven't seen him? He's in the kitchen," Rocket snickered.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.  
>Rocket picked up his gun and held it in the light. "You just need to see it for yourself. Seems like little Star kiddo stayed up too late texting."<p>

I went to the kitchen.

What I saw nearly killed me on the spot. I nearly burst out into laughter.

Peter, in him pajamas, was at the table. His head was resting on the table and he was drooling. There was a rather large puddle of drool. A couple empty beer cans were lying around and there was a bag of half eaten chips.

He was snoring quite loud.

Something came to mind…

A truly wicked smile formed on my lips. I wasn't much for pranks, but this was the perfect opportunity.

I took his phone and began the most epic prank ever.

What was I going to do?

Hohoho, switch around his contacts.


	3. The fun of the prank

**_Written by Tora_**

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>Chapter 3 The fun of the prank<em>**

Peter woke up shortly after I mixed up his contacts.

I had been cooking breakfast, the boys (they're such boys) can't manage to cook. Or what they call cooking means destroying the kitchen. The ship isn't even my ship, but if Peter doesn't want his kitchen to blow up in flames, he better let me stay in charge.

Peter snapped awake when he smelled his favourite meal.

Bacon.

At first, I didn't understand what bacon was. In fact, when he mentioned bacon, I remembered him saying something about a Kevin Bacon, thus when I heard that you could eat bacon, I recoiled for obvious reasons. Cannibalism is generally frowned upon, even if you're a cannibal alien.

I honestly don't know what bacon is made out of, probably some kind of animal that is highly unattractive. Most sorts of food come from highly unattractive things. If you travel to the Ending Planets (planets that are thought to be on the very edge of the universe. Mind you, _thought_) then their famous food comes from the other end of… a Space Ray. (Space Rays are one of the more famous ways to travel around in the far west. They are creatures that resemble highly of beasts down on earth that swim in the water. The actual name of a Space Ray is much different from the way we call them. The Ending Planet has a whole different dictionary from us, but I won't go on about it!)

Space Ray (poop…) is thought to be a high delicacy, if cooked just right. You can imagine how Peter and Rocket took it. Not well. We became, shall we say… enemies to the Ending Planets. They don't take kindly to how you laugh your head off on their most high foods.

I hope you enjoyed your little lesson on planets. It is highly important if you ever want to visit other worlds. I could go on and on about other planets and their strange foods, but I fear you are already sleepy from my talk about the delicacy of the Ending Planet's finest food.

And if you don't believe me about their food, go and visit the Ending Planets yourself! (Only the West of the Ending Planets sell Space Ray poop.)

Back to the story.

Peter woke up.

He wiped away the drool and snorted. "Huh…? OH! Gamora! You're alive!"

I glared at him. "So? What's it matter to you?"

He looked at me hard. Then he waved his hand around as if he were on top of everything. "Of course I knew you were alive! I was just joking around. Bored," He hesitated. "I was just bored."

I snorted and laughed uproariously, "YOU?! Bored? Ha. If you were truly bored, you would sneak off the ship and into a little pod and fly away for a time."

Peter yawned. "Well I didn't feel like it. So there."

I scrapped off the bacon into a pan. I didn't feel like arguing with him at the moment. It was worthless. And he'd find a way to make it sound like I was the loser.

I slid him the plate of bacon.

He sniffed it attentively and his eyes rolled upwards as he took a bite of some. "So gooddd…" He sighed to himself.

"Y'know, Gamora, darling," Peter started. I sighed to myself. He was going to start a lecture, wasn't he? A long boring lecture about how I was in the wrong or how I never say I love him, or so on and so forth. "If you had bacon perfume that would just smell…"

_Gross_… my mind thought.

"_Wonderfulll_!" Peter mused aloud.

_If I smelled of poop, _my mind continued. _He would find that hilarious and wonderful_. Boys were so gross at times. Seriously. Or as he would say, 'siriusly'. I wish you could see me rolling my eyes.

"Wash the dishes when you're done," I said meekly. In my mind I was roaring out swear words at Peter. Sometimes that just happens, you can't blame me for wanting to punch him at times.

I made my way away from the little freak.

I went back into my room and found amusement in messing around with my phone.

There were games on it, and I especially enjoyed the game where I launched birds off into the air at pigs, who apparently stole the eggs of the birds. The game was highly addicting, and I disliked it when the pigs started snorting and laughing meanly after you lost.

It took about an hour before I got a text, from Peter.

_Rocket, Gamora is playing a mean prank!_

Eh? So he's caught on already? Well, not so fast, because he thought I was Rocket.

_Oh? What do you mean Gamora is being mean?_ I typed back. Here was where I could see how well I was at pretending to be Rocket.

_She keeps calling me super super mean names and is pretending to be you! Tell her to stope Rocket!_

_Shaddup._

_ROCKET! DO SOMETHING! SIRIUSLY! She's starting to grate on me… :'( 'm cryin' now…_

_I don't care. What can I do, stupid?_

_I dunno. I thought u mght beable to help._

I almost typed 'beable' isn't a word, but Peter knew that I was a grammar freak and Rocket wasn't. Rocket just made fun of the way he spelled things.

_Want me to blow her head off or somethin'?!_

_NOOO… SHE'S MY BFF. _

_Bff…_

_BEST FRIEND FOREVER. :D :D :D :D :) :) ^O^_

_I see... Ermmm… right, I'm kinda busy._

_Wid wut?_

_Keep your long nose out of my business._

_Oh. That's how you spell business. I thought it was spelled a different way. My bad. 8-(_

_Stupid little runt._

_Don't call me runt or I'll call you a… _

_A what…?_

_Umm… well I was going to call you a rodent, but that would be insensitive._

_=.=_

_#lol._

_What is: #_

_Umm… don't you remember? We talked about it last night…_

Oh crap! Had Rocket used those weird things last night? I remembered them talking about hashtagging.

_#forgot. _I hastily typed back.

_#Itisokay_

_#thanks._

_#sincewhendoyousaythanks_

_#Ididntmeanit._

_#iluvgamora_

_#dontcare._

_#gonnatextgamora_

_#whatever._

_#bye_

_#okaybye._

I wondered if I should stop using grammar. Did Rocket use grammar? I think he did.

I took a break from playing this Angry Bird game, to look up the definition of this 'hashtag'. I wasn't super impressed about this 'hashtagging'. In fact, I didn't understand why people used it.

Feeling sleepy, and assured that Peter wouldn't bother me for a while, I snuggled under my covers and drifted off into a nice slumber.

As I was dreaming of peace and quietness, I was rudely interrupted by someone pounding on my door.

"GAMORA! WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN TO ME?! I DEMAND A TALK! STOP TWISTING MY MIND!"

I blinked.

Peter… I just want to sleep for a little bit… is it too much to ask for?

"OPEN THE DOOR UP IN THE NAME OF STAR LORD!" shouted Peter. "DID YA HEAR ME?"

I sighed and got out of bed, believe it or not.

Looks like the fun was over for now…


	4. Thus the prank goes on… in wrong way

**_Written by Tora_**

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>Chapter 4 Thus the prank goes on… in wrong way, though.<em>**

I opened the door, only to be rudely shoved aside to make way for the angry Peter.

"YOU DID SOMETHING, DIDN'T YOU?!" Peter demanded with righteous anger. "YOU DID SOMETHING TO MY PHONE!"

I blinked sleepily. "Um, well…"

"YES?"

"I guess I did something…"

"_GUESS_?!" Shouted Peter. "_GUESS?! _Is that the best thing you can stay, Gamora? HM?! HMMM?!"

I glared at him. "Yeah…"

Peter crossed his arms in a grumpy way. He glared down at me, as if I were a mere child. "Well?"

"Well, what, Peter…" I snapped back.

"Well, don't you have something to say?!" Peter barked nosily.

I frowned. I began to fidget with my pillow. I knew what he wanted me to say. "No." I finally said.

Peter snorted the most horrific snort ever. Like he was trying to snort his brains farther up into his head or something.

"Don't be disgusting," I blurted out. The face Peter made, made me snort a little with laughter. It was like a bug had flew up his nose.

I buried my face into the pillow.

I looked up to see Peter still crossing his arms, and glaring intently down at me.

"What did you do with my phone?" He growled.

I shrugged. "What's it matter to you?"

His face grew red. He whined out like a brat, "Gamora! Why won't you just tell me what you did?!"

I rolled my eyes. "Because I like trolling you, brat. Okay. Fine. I switched around our contacts."

He blinked and jumped onto the bed next to me. "Show me!" He demanded.

I curled my lip and shoved him off the bed. "Get off, pervert!"

Peter gasped with dignity. "I beg your pardon!"

I ignored his little gasp of pulled out my phone. "Get your phone out and I'll show you, brat!" I snapped viciously.

Without a word, Peter whipped out his phone. I glanced over Peter's shoulder to notice that his background was a picture of… me.

Suddenly my eyes bugged out. A number of swear worlds shot off into my mind and what I ended up saying was a weird mixture of swear words. The picture was of me asleep on the sofa in the living room.

My head was on a pillow and a blanket was tucked up to my chin.

WHAT. THE. CRAP. When did he sneak that picture?!

"Change your picture," I said, before I really processed what I said. I had said it impulsively.

"But I luuuv this picture of you. Look at you, you were so cute," Peter commented with a dreamy expression.

I snorted a little. _Were_? Did I have this evil atmosphere that was only gone when I was asleep or something?

"I hate that picture," I complained.

"Dawww, looky at you. You've got that beanie baby stuffed animal that I got you. I didn't know you liked it so much…"

"_Liked_," I scoffed scornfully. "I had to keep that thing around only because I knew you would throw a fit if I threw it away."

I must confess something. I actually did like the stuffed animal, I just… I just didn't really… want Peter to know I liked it. Otherwise he wouldn't stop giving them to me. The first time he told me he had a stuffed animal for me, I revolted. But when I found out it was an owl with huge eyes, I instantly, against my will, fell head over heels for it.

I didn't know a kid's thing could be that cute. I didn't know that I, a highly trained assassin, could like something that… that… cute.

"Awww, c'mon, Gamora… I thought you liked that thing. You even named it Peter!" he teased.

I let out a little gasp. "H-how did you know?!" I stuttered.

"I heard you told Groot. You only told Groot because he couldn't tell me. But little did you know that your lil' ol' boyfriendo was listening in!"

The words _lil' ol' boyfriendo_ grated into my brains. He certainly knew how to make me annoyed.

I regained control of my facial expressions and coughed a little. "Did you have something to tell me, or are you here just to annoy me, Peter?"

Peter ignored my daggers of glare… wait… glares of daggers… daggers of glare… hmmm… I don't remember how that 'metaphor' (is it a metaphor?) goes. Peter ignored my daggers of glare and belly flopped onto my bed, causing a little tsunami.

"Wanna know something?" Peter said, frowning hard.

I rolled my eyes and replied, "What?" I knew replying was the only way to shut him up.

"I luuvvv you babe."

Holy crap. He's so ADD. Or ADHD. Either one says his name all over it. Though I was a little surprised that he dropped the other talk so quickly. Not that I was going to complain. I quietly put away my phone, hoping he had completely forgotten.

There's something that I should say that I think is quite important. When Peter talks like that, it really annoys me. It's total trash. "Babe, I luv you" "Will you marry me" "Your so sexah, bahbah" all those trash comments really annoy me. If he thinks he can turn me on like that, he is SOOOO freaking wrong. I like class. If he would just stop the trash.

Ahhh, why don't I tell him? Well, that's the thing. Even though I hate his trash talk, there's something comforting about him talking trash. He wouldn't be Peter Quill if he didn't act like that. Besides he'd screw up if he tried being all classy to me. Can you imagine him being classy? It makes me want to laugh.

"So what are you doing today?" I asked him, trying to turn the conversation far away from what he had been talking about.

Peter propped himself up with his hand and looked at me. "Dunno. What do you want to do?" He asked in a flirtatious voice.

I threw away his dirty thoughts aside and said, "I plan on figuring out—" I stopped in midsentence. I was going to bring up my phone, but if I did, Peter would start talking about how mean I was and why did I switch around the numbers and so on and so forth. "I plan on figuring out how to cook… um… how to cook peanut butter sandwiches…"

Cook. Peanut. Butter. Sandwiches… WHAT THE CRAP, GAMORA, WHAT THE CRAP… Is that the best I could say?!

"What the… cook peanut butter—" Peter stopped and burst into fits of laughter.

"Yeah yeah, shut up. I was joking…" My mind raced for another good excuse. GOOD excuse.

"No, I like the idea! Let's try it!" Peter begged, like a little dog.

I raised my eyebrow. No. I could see it. The ship catching fire. The smell of burnt peanut butter Peter trying to stop the fire with something more flammable. The smell of burnt fur. And Groot… no… just no…

"No," I snapped grouchily.

Peter clamped his mouth shut. Then he said, "Okay, granny, sheesh."

When Peter and Rocket wanted to do something stupid, I would often interfere and tell them heck no. And they would go grumbling and make snide comments how mean I was. But I'm fine with that. They just think through it all. They should be glad for me around. One of these days they'll thank me.

Peter stood up and stretched. "I'll be going now, unless you need me, sweethawwtt."

Huh, sweethawt. That's new.

"Okay, Peter…" I hastily added on. "I don't need you, but I'll tell you if I need you."

"Sounds good to me."

Peter then took his leave, thank heavens…

I was left alone, which I really like. I'm a bit of an introvert actually. Not a big one, but I like to keep quiet. Peter on the other hand… yeah… let's just leave it at that.

Well. That was easy. He didn't have me explain myself all the way through, and at some point, he even put away his phone without realizing it.

I smiled and rested my head on my pillow. I like this. Quiet… peace… and…

_Buzzzz_… _Buzzzz_…

I frowned. I thought I had my phone on silent… I picked up my phone and looked at it. Someone sent me a text. Someone I didn't know…

It said… _Lucy, my mom said we couldn't get together. She says we're too busy_…

I blinked. Who on earth?

Should I text back and say something?

I did…

_I'm sorry, but I think you've got the wrong number._

_Oh, I'm sorry. _This stranger replied back.

_I thought I was texting my friend_. The stranger texted again.

I hesitated, but texted back, _Sorry._

Now… I should have thought, my my it's kinda weird that a girl is texting me, especially since we're in space, and she's probably down on earth. But that didn't cross my mind. Until much later. Until it was too late...

* * *

><p>AN: sorry I haven't posted something in a while! I've been enjoying my winter break and I still have a like 3 more weeks of freedom, so I figured I'd write and write. Oh yeah, and then I came down with a cold, so I didn't feel like writing. But I feel better, and I'm writing my heart away now.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! (Errr... I mean Happy New Year's Eve (From the USA)) Hope you have awesome plans for your New Year's Eve parties. I know I'll be at home still getting over my cold... T_T


	5. History

**_Written by Tora_**

* * *

><p><strong><span><em>Chapter 5 History<em>**

Thankfully Lucy didn't text back. I honestly don't know what Lucy's mother would have thought if she found out that her little Lucy was texting an alien assassin.

Wait… oh gosh, hold on…

Oh—crap, Peter's recorder is dying on me… Be right back. Or as he'd say. BRB. (That's what it means, right? Not like… barf rug bar?)

Okay. Sorry. Peter helped me start it up again. With These things called Triple AAA Batteries. Why would they say… triple and then have AAA? It's like the people who made them, are afraid people don't know how much a triple is, so they have AAA afterwards, to help you understand how much a triple is.

Anyway. Oh, before I go onto my story, while Peter was helping me, he asked if I was enjoying my new phone.

I had said yes, but unfortunately I wasn't too thrilled about this texting ordeal. He told me I simply needed to get used to it.

He told me he was a texting king, even though he was just as new to this texting as I was. Then he told me that I should be careful on the internet and not to give my phone number away.

When I had asked why, he told me that (yes these were his exact words), "You shouldn't text strangers."

I merely shrugged, and wasn't worrying too much about it. "Why?" I had asked him anyway.

"Because there are these sites on the web, called 'Chatrooms'…"

Before he could go on preaching, I had to ask him what a chatroom was. I didn't understand how you could have a room with chat. Ehhh? Was it some kind of metaphor?! (Curse his metaphors!)

He told me, "A chatroom is basically where you can talk to a bunch of other people—"

I interrupted and had asked him, "How do people talk together… on the internet? How do you get there?"

Peter gave me one of his classic all-mighty glare, which he thought so terrifying apparently, and told me, "If you shut up, I'll explain. A chatroom is a site where you can login with a username. Like I could look up 'chatroom' and it would tell me to log in with a username. Like Star Lord. I could log in, with the name of Star Lord. Then I could talk to other people. Now here's where it's dangerous…"

He had paused for dramatic effect. "A lot of the people there, tend to be old guys, hanging around in search for lovely ladies, like you, and they usually pretend to be a girl. They have a girl name and act like a girl. Then they try to make friends with you and try to talk you into giving away your phone number," Peter made a tch noise and said, "It's terrible trouble. And so you should be careful not to talk to any stranger."

Peter's words were going into my ear and coming out the other. I didn't understand his worry and I didn't quite grasp this thing called chatroom.

I had hummed in reply, pretending to understand what he said, and asked him, "What should I do if I got a phone call or text from someone I didn't know?"

Peter shrugged carelessly as if that was the last of his troubles. "I dunno. Just remember that the texter could be a fat dirty ol' man, pretending to be a girl."

I thought about it.

I never really had a problem with lewd men, I was an assassin, and most men left me alone, thank you very much.

So back to where I was… oh crap, I don't really remember what I was talking about before all this chatroom came up. You know what, never mind, and let's just continue onwards.

I thought about Lucy.

Lucy.

Suddenly, I thought of something. I wondered if I could uncover Lucy's true identity. I wasn't a guy, so I could stalk her, right? And besides, maybe Lucy was a guy.

I decided to amuse myself, by pulling out my phone and texting Lucy.

_Lucy, were you able to find your friends number_?

Hmmm… was that a little too creepy? Would Lucy not answer me?

For the first time, I waited with a bit of anxiousness for a text back.

I waited a few more minutes and sighed. I must have scared Lucy off.

But wait, I got a text back. My phone buzzed and I nearly jumped with excitement.

_Yes, thank you. Ermm, what is your name?_

I thought about it. Do you think the girl would think the name "Gamora" weird?

_My name is_… I texted in. I thought hard about it. I didn't really know any… earthly names. Other than Peter's mother's name! _Meredith_.

Lucy replied back, _Meredith? That's a pretty name! I love that name! _

Daw, I bet Peter would like this girl. Well… I wondered if Peter actually liked the name Meredith or if it made him sad.

_How old are you, Meredith_? Lucy asked.

Hmm… should I pretend to be younger? Oh heck. Why not.

_I'm 13_.

_Wow! That's how old I am!_ Lucy typed back.

I smiled. Oh really? I wondered if the person I was texting to was some fat old dude.

I got up and went to my room, closing the door softly, so as not to interrupt anyone else and draw attention.

_Really, Lucy?_

_Yes! I'm 13 too! What do you like doing?_

I began to type in, _Oh you know… savin' the galaxy and kicking some—_I stopped typing. I hastily hit the back button.

NO.

That was the dumbest reply ever. I couldn't believe I actually considered sending that to her. And I'm pretty sure a little thirteen year old girl wouldn't have said such language as I was about to say.

_I enjoy painting my feet and hands_.

I had an idea of this feet and hand polish stuff. Peter had given me some before. The handpolish is very nice, but I wear boots so I don't put it on my feet.

_Umm… are you an artist…?_ Lucy asked.

_Yeah! You've got to be kinda creative painting your hand and feet!_

_Ummmmmm… Meredith, are you like… Indian and do that cool swirly thingy that Indians do?_

Eh? Weird swirly thingy that Indians do?!

_I don't remember Indians doing that. Did Pocahontas and the Indians do that?_

_Meredith, not that kind of Indians. Ur teacher sux if she's teaching u weird things. _

_My teacher is a good teacher_! I wasn't really that sure if Peter was a good teacher or not, but whatever whatever.

_K sorry. Meredith, what do you like doing? I know I like to paint my TOENAILS and FINGERNAILS._

_Me too._

_But, Meredith, you said you liked painting your hands and toes._

_Ummm… I like that too._

_Wuuuutttt…._

_What is 'wuuuuttt'?_ I couldn't' help but ask.

_Ummm… NM. Sooooo where do you live….?_

_I live in… the Grand Canyon!_ It was the only place I could think of. And it was a famous place, so surely she would understand.

_Y do you live there?! LOLOLOLOLOLOL_

_Because it's a famous place._

_Yea, but you don't live there. You mean you live close?!_

_No, _I protested. _I live in the Grand Canyon! _Wherever the Grand Canyon was, I thought to myself.

_That's impossible._

This Lucy was starting to grate on me. LUCY. I LIVE. IN. SPACE. DON'T TELL ME THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE.

_Just kidding,_ I typed back, but I was now sulking. _I live in the White House_. There. Surely she'd believe that. Famous place. And it has the word 'house' in it.

_Ummm… so why do you live there?_

_I dunno, I just do. I like to see the Rocky Mountains from my window. I mean the Alps. LOL the Rocky Mountains aren't in the USA. I totes meant the Alps_.

I wasn't sure if I was being very smart, but I was trying my hardest. Peter was a terrible teacher, and I didn't quite understand much geography and things like that. And I was horrible at history. I'm an assassin. Not a professor.

_Okay. Well I live in New York._

_Ohhh! I love New York, New York_! I typed in._ You should come visit New York, New York and see me in the White House!_

_Ummm yea, that sounds like fun. So… um… where have you been before?_

_Oh I dunno… I like to visit the Alps a lot, since it's like, right in front of me, I often like to visit… Las Venus and Lost Angeles… and Hollywood. I love Hollywood. I often visit Hollywood, and the Asian architecture is beautiful. I could really get use to the misty forests in Hollywood. But Los Hollywood is far away from the Alps, so I don't visit it much_.

I was racking my brains for places in America.

_Well… I enjoy China Town myself…_

_That's cool, Lucy! I love China Town! I especially love the hotdogs! And the Texas State Fair, I love the Fair! But once, when I went to the Texas State Fair, I lost the beauty pageant. I was so sad. I thought I looked so pretty and I thought I was going to win the Texas State Fair…_

Dang, I thought I was good at this. This Lucy sure was quiet. I couldn't decide if it was a boy or girl. I still had to dig deeper, but I was having fun. Maybe I needed to learn some more history on America!

Just then, Peter called out, "Gamora?"

I quickly turned off my phone as he came into my room.

"Yes?"

He looked slightly confused. "Ummm…" He hummed in confusion.

I looked at him expectantly. "Yesss?"

"Do… you think… I could teach you a lesson?"

I smiled. "Can it be history?" I wanted to brag to Lucy how much I knew about America. I know I was being totally childish, but I couldn't help it!

He looked a little shocked. "You really want it to be history?"

I nodded eagerly, for the first time. Usually I hated his lectures on America, but this time I was all for it.

"That sounds great, I'll cook up some lunch and you can teach me about America!" I said in a sing-song voice.

"Okay…" He said in a small uncertain voice. He left the room.

I was going to have to wait and see if Lucy was a girl or guy until after my history lesson.

* * *

><p>Sorry if you find typos, I'm too lazy to corrected them right now. I wrote this chapter within an hour, so... it's probably a stupid chapter.<p> 


	6. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**_IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

Hiya, so you're going to kill me for getting an alert just for a stupid author's note, but I'd like to say some important (haha, what I consider important) stuff, and I don't want to wait until the end of my next chapter to write it.

For starters, I want to say to the people who left reviews, favs, follows, and even follows on the Shinobi-saru-corp, thank you. It really meant a lot to me. I can't PM every individual person to say a personal thanks, but I'm am here to say a big thanks.

I want to make it clear, in case you haven't notice, Shinobi-saru-corp is **_not_ **run by one person. It's actually run by _**5**_ friends, but only 3 of us post fanfics. So if you followed us, thanks, but those aren't all my stories and every time you get an alert for a new story (I assume that's how it works) it may not be written by me. But the other girls write pretty epic stuff too, and are better at writing than me, so feel free to check their stuff out, assuming you're interested in what they write! If you haven't yet, check out our profile to get a better understand of what I just said. There you can see all of our names and get an idea of how weird and crazy we are. All our nicknames are based off of Japanese animals, yes, even though I'm actually Chinese (Chinese America). Born in the year of the tiger, I obviously chose the name Tora (which, duh, means tiger).

I do answer questions when I see them in reviews, and so if you have a question feel free to ask. Don't be shy, I don't bite, but when I do, I don't... (bite hard...) I really enjoy answering questions of any kind.

Lastly, I know I don't post new chapters very fast, but from now on when I do write a chapter, I'll be posting them on Saturdays. My goal is to try and get a chapter done within a week and post it on Saturday. But if I don't post them weekly, whatever happens, the chapters be posted on a Saturday from now on.

Why? I write chapters rather fast. I can get two or one chapters written within a day (when I don't have writer's block). But I need to edit them. So giving me a week or a few days will help me look them over and edit the typos I find. Not to mention, school has started, so it may be possible that the only time I get time to write is on a Saturday. If I don't have writer's block and do have time, I can maybe post it on that day. And lastly, who knows, maybe you can have something to look forward on Saturday, not to mention, it gives you Saturday and Sunday to read it, instead of a busy school day.

Thanks for reading my story! And my author's note, I'm not exactly how much you got...

Keep calm and read on!


End file.
